


Ad astra per aspera

by lagazzraladra



Series: Astra Verse [1]
Category: Generation Kill, Star Trek
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-26
Updated: 2013-07-26
Packaged: 2017-12-21 09:21:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/898607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lagazzraladra/pseuds/lagazzraladra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A militarized Star Fleet. A highly specialized, deadly unit. Not enough fucking maps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ad astra per aspera

**Author's Note:**

> major shout outs to both [jasmine](http://lordelrond.tumblr.com/) (for beta'ing this shit like a champ) and [miles](http://nicebodycanieatit.tumblr.com/) (for giving me constant feedback); they're both fucking awesome. also tons of thanks to anybody i sent this to when it was in the early stages of development and thanks to all of you who kept me motivated. this wouldn't have been possible without you.  
> for more stuff (e.g. fanmixes/art/etc.) for this series check out the [tumblr tag](http://danverrs.tumblr.com/tagged/fic:%20ad%20astra%20per%20aspera)  
> one last thing before you dig in; for the sake of not spoiling major plot points, i haven't tagged much. however, if you're worried about being triggered by certain aspects of this piece you can view the end notes!! there i've listed everything i think may be considered triggering (and if you think i missed anything, let me know!) if you have any additional concerns/comments/questions feel free to drop me an ask on tumblr or leave it in the comments below! enjoy!

 

 

_The following transcripts are select entries and excerpts from Captain S’tekev’s Log. A native of Vulcan, S’tekev attended Starfleet Academy in San Francisco, USA, Earth. He then went on to serve as Captain of the USS Pendelton for 35 years. Additionally, he held command of both the ship and its Bravo Unit during the events of Operation One. No parts of these entries have been edited in any way, shape, or form:_

-

**Captain’s log, Stardate 2340.231**

Admiral Mattis invited me into a meeting discussing the construction and assignment of the new USS Pendelton. He informed me (and all other beings present) that this ship was on course to be sent on multiple short-range missions for her first 8 years and then, possibly, multiple 5 year missions to deep space. At the end of the meeting, he pulled me to the side and privately told me that I would be her captain.

I had no words, and I still find myself at a loss. This is quite the honor.

I am not to receive the official summoning for a week at least.

**-**

**Captain’s log, Stardate 2340.234**

Three days ago, I received the official summoning for my position of captain aboard the USS Pendelton. I was informed that I would not be choosing my own crew until I was assigned to a 5 year mission. Additionally, my crew is to rotate amongst other ships. This is, supposedly, to allow me to see all that Starfleet has to offer. I have also been informed that this type of crew assignment has never been undertaken before. I suppose I am the “guinea pig”, so to speak.

-

**Captain’s log, Stardate 2341.24**

Today, the Pendelton departs on her first mission. I am nervous, which is a rather strange emotion for me. It is altogether very enlightening.

-

**Captain’s log, Stardate 2367.54**

We have recently received word from Starfleet base directing us to change our course to the Federation aligned, M Class planet, Markav IV. Originally, our destination was the L Class planet QR78, where we were scheduled for a landing for rock collection and mineral sampling. I am currently unsure as to the Federation’s intentions regarding these change-of-plans, however I trust in their good judgment. I have been informed that I will receive more information regarding this mission within a day or two.

-

**Captain’s log, Stardate 2367.57**

I have just received a mission-debriefing packet from base. We are to head to Markav IV immediately and begin discussion with their government on the subject of the trading of mass amounts of dilithium crystals. Talks will begin within the week.

-

**Captain’s log, Stardate 2367.61**

Talks with the Markavi government went incredibly well.

Bhara is just as majestic of a city as it as famed to be; the architectural skill, artistry and will that must have been put into building such a place is hard to imagine. I was also fascinated by the language. My current Chief Communications Officer, Lieutenant Meesh, is from Markav IV and she has told me all about the unique linguistic properties of Markav’s native language.

As for the dilithium, the majority of the government showed willingness to begin trading larger amounts of the crystals with the Federation. They even showed considerable interest in developing their mining industry on an interplanetary scale versus keeping it as a planet-only operation. However, there were some small amounts of opposition from a few individuals, although I never did hear any outspoken negative comments or violent disagreement during our various discussions.

Additionally, I received permission from their government to send out multiple teams of crewmen from our sciences division to collect some information on Markav IV’s incredibly unique ecosystem. It is endlessly fascinating to me how the entirety of their civilization, 1.6 billion people, is able to fit into such a small portion of their entire planet. A particular point of fascination for me was Markav’s only two rivers, which both run straight through Bhara and then abruptly end just outside the city.

As much as I enjoy exploring new worlds, I hope to travel to Markav IV again someday, for I believe that that they have much to show us and vice versa. Certainly, if the Federation were to set up a base there and become more involved in their affairs, we would both benefit from such proximity.

-

**Captain’s log, Stardate 2369.304**

I have just received news that the Pendelton has been approved for a 5 year mission. Admiral Mattis has informed me that this is because of the crew’s diplomatic actions on Markav IV earlier this year.  Perhaps the dilithium crystals were needed much more than I was lead to believe.

Regardless, my excitement is unfathomable at this moment in time; I can barely type. This is what I have been dreaming of ever since I first joined Starfleet. There is no event in my entire life that can, or will, ever compare to this.

Currently, I am picking my crew members for this mission. It is a delicate process, because I have had the pleasure of serving with so many great Male, Female, and Gender-Variant Beings in my career. Narrowing down the list to a select few is a most difficult undertaking. However, I believe I have come to a decision. As it stands currently my heads of staff are as follows:

Troca Eckloff- First Officer

John Sixta- Chief Navigator

Meesh- Chief Communications Officer

Alex Aubin- Chief Medical Officer

Christina Wasik- Chief Tactical Officer

Bryan Patterson- Chief Engineer Officer

Craig Schwetje- Chief Security Officer

I look forward to working with these individuals for the next 5 years and I hope they regard me in the same way upon receiving their assignments.

Additionally, I have received news that we will be having a non-Federation affiliated Human aboard as well. His name is Evan Wright and he associated with the prestigious “Rolling Stone Magazine”.  He will be documenting life aboard a spaceship for all five years of our journey, and when we return he is planning on writing “the most in-depth published work on how Starfleet works and how Federation ships are run”.

From the date of this Log, it is only 8 days before the Pendelton will be leaving.

-

**Captain’s log, Stardate 2371.78**

Today we received orders that all Starfleet ships return back to Earth, as the Markav IV government has turned to dictatorship and just declared war on the Federation as whole. Markavi military forces recently invaded the nearby inhabited moon, KW8. I have been informed that, once on KW8, they infiltrated the Starfleet base located there and effectively stolen large amounts of Federation technology and resources. Additionally, they have been reported to have set fire to many buildings on the base and they are being held responsible for the destruction of large stores of both deuterium and antideuterium.

It is now speculated that the government is attempting to build weapons of mass destruction and space ships utilized for interplanetary warfare, with the equipment and resources that they have stolen. I calculate that that is a possibility that is entirely plausible.

Currently, I am being ordered to immediately halt the Pendelton’s 5 year mission, send Evan Wright home ahead of the rest of crew (as it has been determined  an insurmountable risk for an untrained individual to be aboard any Starfleet vessel at this time), and then return to Earth, with the rest of the Pendelton’s crew. There, I will be expected to hold council with Admiral Mittas, along with other senior members of Starfleet, and discuss our next steps.

-

**Captain’s log, Stardate 2371.97**

There was an attack on multiple Starfleet bases across Earth this afternoon, 1600 hours Standard. Overwhelming evidence supports that these attacks have been perpetrated by the Markavi.

12,000 of our people are dead and the numbers of the wounded have yet to be reported, so I have reason to believe that the death toll shall rise. Five Federation ships have been damaged and will need to be completely reconstructed; eight ships will require six months minimum for their repairs to be completed. The psychological damage to all who witnessed this event is insurmountable. I myself am still in shock.

Admiral Mittas believes that war is imminent. I fear that he is correct.

-

**Captain’s log, Stardate 2371.101**

Admiral Mittas has given me an assignment. In order to keep diplomatic relations with various other Federation-aligned planets, the Markavi government must be taken down stealthily, by an elite, secret group. The public must never know of our plans. To the best of their knowledge we will be going to Markavi to discuss these matters diplomatically and come to some kind of mutual agreement. In truth, we will be going to destroy.

What does this mean?

This means that Starfleet has become militarized, my ship and my crew in particular. I will be sending select members of my crew to invade a planet. I will be helping to lead an invasion of a planet. I have never invaded a planet. Starfleet has never invaded a planet. I have selected an elite group of my crewmembers to receive training and become combat ready, all in the span of six months. They should never have to be combat ready.

I am uncomfortable with the Federation’s current actions, even in light of our current situation. Nothing justifies this. We have come so far from our ideals, our dreams. In fact, we have left them smoldering in the dust. And I am scared; I am scared of what we may do, what we may accomplish. However, it appears we have no other choice.

Regardless of my personal emotions and opinions, I shall do what I must do. I will use my best judgment in all of the decisions I will have to make. I can only hope that my crew will understand.

**\------**

**LOCATION** : ADMIRAL MITTAS’ OFFICE, STARFLEET DOCKING STATION, ABOVE EARTH  
 **STARDATE** : 2371.107  
 **TIME** : 0900

“Hello Captain S’tekev, please do take a seat,” Admiral Mittas says with a warm, welcoming smile, gesturing to a sleek, modern-looking chair across from his equally sleek and modern-looking desk. “We have many important things to discuss before your departure later this morning and I don’t want to waste your time. Or mine.”

“Thank you Admiral,” S’tekev says, as he sits down. The office he is currently in is sparsely furnished, which is logical of course, as this office is only meant for temporary use when the Admiral is present on the station. However, S’tekev notices that there is a picture frame on the desk containing a picture of the Admiral’s partner. “What matter do you wish to discuss with me?”

The Admiral clears his throat, “Well, as you know, we’ve spent the last six months  training your ship’s crew members to be prepared to invade Markav IV. And, well, that’s a rather rapid training rate, so I suppose I’m asking… Do you believe your crew to be ready?”

“Sir, I do,” S’tekev replies.

“And are you sure that you aren’t just saying that to make me happy?” the Admiral queries, hands clasped beneath his chin and eyebrows raised questioningly.  “May I remind you your selective crew members may, and most likely will, be held completely responsible for any future attacks or failure to neutralize the Markavi government?”

“Sir, with all due respect, I am well aware of the fact.”

“And your opinion still stands?”

“Yes sir. I hope I do not sound conceited, but I do believe that my crew is perhaps the most qualified to be the first unit to make contact with Markavi soil. May I remind you that but a few years ago it was the USS Pendelton who made contact with the Markavis and negotiated with them on the subject of the dilithium crystal trade.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” the Admiral laughs, “I remember that. And I have to say S’tekev, your faith in your crew is inspiring, we may win this war yet.” The Admiral laughs again, “Not that I don’t expect us too, but you know… knock on wood and all that.”

S’tekev feels slightly uncomfortable with that last comment, but his demeanor does not change in any noticeable way to reflect said feeling. “Sir, if the only object of this meaning has been to question me on whether or not I believe in the capabilities of my crew then I request that you give me permission to leave, since I have already given you my answer. I have many other tasks to attend to.”

S’tekev makes to get out of his chair, hands already on the armrests, ready to propel him out of his seat, when the Admiral puts up his hand and waves at him.

“Hold on, boy. I have one more important question for you, regarding your ship and crew’s security and safety.” There is a beat and then, “It’s about your Chief Communications Officer, Lieutenant Meesh; do you trust her, S’tekev?”

S’tekev blinks with surprise, “Yes, sir. She is one of my senior officers and arguably one of the most capable and trustworthy individuals that I have ever met.”

“Hmm, yes, ‘arguably’. You are aware that she is a Markavi native, correct?”

“Affirmative, sir. I fail to see how this pertains to my ship’s secure-“

“I am concerned that she may experience feelingsof loyalty towards her home planet, feelings that may _potentially_ cause her to make unwise decisions that could _potentially_ compromise our entire operation.” The Admiral takes a deep breath, and stares at S’tekev seriously. “You do understand what I am suggesting, don’t you Captain?”

S’tekev stares back, equally serious, “Sir, I assure you that Lieutenant Meesh, while she may be Markavi in origin, is completely loyal to Starfleet and in my four years of working with her I have never seen anything to suggest the contrary. However, if I do ever detect suspicious activity from Lieutenant Meesh, or any of my other crew members, I will let you know. Now, if you will excuse me, I have pressing matters to attend to on the bridge of the Pendelton. May I be dismissed?”

Admiral Mittas sets his jaw and mutters through clenched teeth, “You are dismissed, Captain S’tekev. Best of luck on your voyage.”

“Live long and prosper,” says S’tekev, throwing up the familiar hand symbol. As he leaves the office, he can feel barely suppressed rage boiling under his skin, tinting his skin green. He resolves to prove the Admiral wrong.

- **\------**

 **LOCATION** : USS PENDELTON’S BRIDGE  
 **STARDATE** : 2371.108  
 **TIME** : 1600

A gentle whooshing noise, followed by a ‘ding!’ emits from the turbo lift as Lieutenant Wasik enters the bridge, her skirt swishing behind her. She makes her way over to her chair on the main console and begins preparing the ship for launch.

Immediately after she sits down, Captain S’tekev also enters the bridge via the turbo lift. Instead of making his way directly to the Captain’s Chair, he makes his way over to Commander Eckloff’s station first. There he has a short, whispered conversation with his First Officer, one that Wasik can’t make out from her current location, before, finally, turning towards the captain’s chair to take his seat.

“Lieutenant Wasik,” he says, once seated. “Are we ready for our departure?”

“Yes Captain, all systems are functional and ready for take-off.”

“Warp factor one, Lieutenant.”

“Yes sir.”

She slides the lever forward, until it clicks into place. The engines thrum and pulse. There’s a beat before the jump, when space becomes distorted around them and then…

They’re gone.

**\------**

Stretching on infinitely in all directions, there is complete darkness, silence, death, disease, and danger, and then, suddenly:

Light.

Bright, blinding, brilliant light.

Then, a flash of silver, the sound of space and time burning up, and a trail of blue fading slowly, slowly, slowly into the distance, dispersing back into the cosmos, followed by all-consuming silence once again.

 _That_ is how a starship travels.

**\------**

**LOCATION** : ABOARD THE USS PENDELTON, SOMEWHERE IN THE NAHI SOLAR SYSTEM  
 **STARDATE** : 2371.109  
 **TIME** : 0400

Freshly showered and with a new, clean uniform on, Lieutenant Nathaniel Fick steps out of his cabin. Immediately, he begins heading down the hallway towards the turbolift that will take him to the docking station, where he plans to make some last-minute adjustments to his Desert Flyer in preparation for his departure later this morning.

“Lieutenant Fick!” A voice calls from his left; it’s Commander Eckloff. She is walking briskly towards him, with her hair up in a tight bun and her blue sciences shirt looking like it has been freshly ironed. Fick comes to an abrupt stop in the middle of the hallway as he waits for her to catch up with him. When she does, he politely asks:

“Commander, what can I do for you this morning?”

She waves dismissively at him, “Nothing, it’s nothing at all. I just wish to ask you a question: Will you and the rest of your initial ground unit be prepared for departure by 0600?”

“I believe so, Commander.”

“That’s good, very good,” mutters Eckloff, half to herself. “Where are you headed now?”

“The engineering deck, Commander,” replies Fick, “I was going to perform a last-minute check on my assigned Desert Flyer in order to ensure that it was appropriately equipped.”

“Never mind that now,” says Eckloff with a wave of her hand. “Captain S’tekev is holding a mandatory meeting in the officer’s mess for all crewmembers. We should be making our way towards that instead.”

Fick’s eyebrows crease in confusion, “I don’t remember there being an annouceme-“

Just then, Lieutenant Meesh’s voice crackles over the ship’s PA system.

_“There will be a meeting in the officer’s mess hall today at 0430 hours for all crewmembers who have received a pass from Captain S’tekev. Attendance is mandatory. I repeat, there will be a meeting in the officer’s mess hall today at 0430 hours for all crewmembers who have received a pass from Captain S’tekev. Attendance is mandatory.”_

Commander Eckloff turns to Fick with questioning look, “Didn’t you receive your pass?”

“Yes, ma’am, but I had no idea what it was for,” answers Fick truthfully.

“Well there we are!” says Eckloff smiling broadly. “Shall we?” She pats Fick once on the shoulder, before marching off down the hallway, not even looking back to see if Fick is following.

He is following her, of course; checking the Flyer can wait.

**\------**

**TIME** : 0430

The mess hall is crowded, close to its maximum occupancy, which is why Fick gets rather jostled around by all of them, and in the process loses sight of Commander Eckloff . However he does see her reappear at the front of the hall, at Captain S’tekev’s side. Apart from being crowded, it is also extremely loud in the mess hall. However, this noise problem is quickly solved when S’tekev taps two fingers against his microphone, creating a deep resonating ‘thud’ throughout the hall.

It becomes deathly silent.

“Thank you,” says S’tekev, “I hope all of you present have received a pass from me this morning via your PAAD?”

S’tekev receives a resounding “yes sir” as a reply.

“Very good,” S’tekev says with a nod. “If you did not receive such a pass, then I implore you to leave now, for the object of this meeting is organization and by remaining here you only hinder the process.”

There is movement near the edge of the hall, the sound of a door sliding open and closed, and the sound of laughter from nearby crewmembers. S’tekev takes this as a moment to clear his throat and shuffle some papers on his podium before continuing, “Thank you. I would like to begin by congratulating all you present; you have been selected to be part of Bravo One and Operation One as a whole. Today, you will be landing on KW8, therefore, I must give you your vehicle assignment. Once your name is called, please go and stand by your designated area, marked by signs around the mess hall. Let us begin.”

S’tekev takes a deep breath.

“Vehicle 1: Ensign Brad Colbert, Leader; Yeoman Ray-Ann Person, Driver; Yeoman Harriet Trombley, Navigator; Yeoman Walt Hasser, Gunner.

“Vehicle 2: Ensign Antionia Espera, Leader; Yeoman Jason Lilley, Driver; Yeoman  Nathan Christopher and Yeoman Gabriela Gazra, Gunners; Hektor Leon, Navigator.

“Vehicle 3: Ensign Larry Patrick, Leader; Yeoman James Chaffin, Driver; Yeoman Anthonia Jacks, Gunner; Michaela Brunmeier, Navigator.

“Vehicle 4: Lieutenant Junior Grade Nathaniel Fick, Leader; Ensign Mike Wynn, Driver; Yeoman Evan Stafford, Gunner; Crewman 3rd Class John Christeson, Navigator.

“Vehicle 5: Ensign Stephanie Lovell, Leader; Ensign Leandro Baptista, Driver; Ensign Timothy Byran, Navigator; Yeoman Teren Holsey and Michael Stinetorf, Gunners.

“That appears to be the end of my list,” says S’tekev with a glance around the hall. Everyone whose name he called appears to have moved to their designated area. “However, I am not finished, for I have some additional positions that I am required to assign: Lieutenant Fick, you are to be Commander, Ensign Colbert, you are to be his First Officer and Ensign Bryan you are to be the Chief Medical Officer of this mission.

“I thank you all for your cooperation and I wish you great success on your given mission, for it will not be an easy task. Live long and prosper.” S’tekev throws up the familiar hand gesture before stepping down from the podium and walking out the doors immediately behind him, both Commander Eckloff and Lieutenant Meesh in tow.

Meeting adjourned.

**\------**

**FILE TYPE** : AUDIO  
 **TIME STAMP** : 0445, 2371.109  
 **ORIGIN** : THE CONN

_“Hello, this is your Captain speaking. Today is the day that many of you have been training for these past six months; today we are to begin the invasion of Markav IV. The majority of you will be remaining on board this ship; the rest will be sent to the Starfleet outpost on KW8, once the area is cleared. A handful of your fellow crewmembers have been selected to infiltrate Markav IV and end this conflict with as minimal bloodshed as possible. I ask that all of you remain diligent and continue to perform your usual activities to the best of your abilities. Additionally, I desire that you all are aware of the fact that, if believe in anything, I believe in the people who serve on this ship. S’tekev out.”_

**\------**

**LOCATION** : VEHICLE TRANSPORTER ROOM OF THE USS PENDELTON  
 **STARDATE** : 2371.109  
 **TIME** : 0615

“Alright, men, women, other beings, in a few minutes we will be leaving the Pendelton and traveling to KW8,” states Lieutenant Fick from where he stands in front of the twenty-two other people now under his command. “I remind you to check and make sure that your Flyers are appropriately equipped for our upcoming mission. Additionally, when we are out there, I remind you to stay in position and follow orders from your vehicle leaders.” Fick sternly looks at the faces of his comrades, “Get to work.”

There’s a beat of silence before everyone scrambles to get to their positions, but then it breaks and everyone is chattering and yelling and ordering everyone else around. In turn, each vehicle team pushes their Flyer to the opening of one of the Pendelton’s many chutes meant for vehicle transportation. Once that is done, they all climb into their designated Flyers and send a transmission to Commander Patterson:

“Vehicle 1 is ready, over.”

“Vehicle 3 is ready, over.”

“Vehicle 5 is ready, over.”

“Vehicle 2 is ready, over.”

Lieutenant Fick settles into his seat, flipping switches, checking airlocks, and doing a final check of his team members before buckling up before saying, “Vehicle 4 is ready, over,” into his radio.

There’s a moment before Patterson replies, but when he does, he says, “All vehicles report that they are ready for take-off, confirm?”

And Fick knows they’re all ready, so he leans over to his to his radio one last time and says:

“Open the chutes, Commander, over.”

**\------**

Rush of air. No not air. Space is a vacuum.  Rush of nothing then, but it roars like wind anyway, physics be damned.

There’s the hum of engines. There are five Desert Flyers shuttling through the Neutral Zone, past the Neutral Zone, and hurtling towards KW8.

Towards the unknown.

**\------**

**LOCATION** : ABOARD THE USS PENDELTON AT THE EDGE OF THE MARKAVI “NEUTRAL ZONE”  
 **STARDATE** : 2371.109  
 **TIME** : 0700

Nothing lives on the surface of KW8 and nothing ever will. Apart from the Starfleet Outpost, located on the moon’s south end, there is no native or non-native life to be found. Additionally, it is so silent that if you were to go and stand somewhere alone, you would be able to hear the movement of your blood as it courses through your veins.

Today, however, there is the sound of craft entering the atmosphere. There is a soft thrumming of turbo engines as Desert Flyers shuttle silently across the surface of the moon, a cloud of dust and rocks being kicked up in their wake. There is also the sound of radios being clicked on and off, voices traveling between the lines. Ship to ground and back again.

Just outside the designated Neutral Zone, sits Lieutenant Meesh, Chief Communications Officer of the USS Pendelton. From her position on the bridge, she is able to watch a screen that depicts the location and status of all Flyer scheduled to be arriving on KW8’s surface this morning. While she may not have visual on the Flyers on ground, she knows exactly what this would look like, because she has seen it many times before. She spent many years working at the KW8 outpost, before joining the Pendelton’s crew. In fact, she has seen many different vehicles roll over the desert, heading towards the outpost, though never in this context.

“Pendelton to Fick, do you copy?”

Ensign Fick’s voice crackles steadily back over the line, “Fick to Pendelton, yes I copy. All clear, over.”

Swiveling in her chair, Meesh turns to face another radio to send a transmission to the rest of Bravo One, “Meesh to Company, Fick is on the surface and has given the all clear. You may land, over.”

Slowly but surely, the dots on the screen multiply, steadily blinking into existence as they each land on the moon’s surface. Once all five are there, they begin moving across the surface in a straight line. For now, however Meesh’s job is over, and she won’t be receiving any more transmissions. She has completed her task for the time being, so therefore she waits.

Waiting fucking sucks.

**\------**

**LOCATION** : SURFACE OF KW8, 60KM AWAY FROM STARFLEET OUTPOST  
 **STARDATE** : 2371.109  
 **TIME** : 0720

The new newly appointed Vehicle One Leader and First Officer of Bravo Unit, Ensign Brad Colbert, squints out the passenger window of her Flyer, eyes scanning the horizon for any movement. The sun of this solar system is particularly bright, which makes her squint even harder. What she wouldn’t give for a pair of sunglasses right now, too bad they aren’t regulation approved.

Her driver, a young Yeoman by the name of Ray-Ann Person, taps her comradely on the shoulder and says, “This is one big damn moon, ain’t it?”

Before Colbert can answer, her Navigator, Yeoman Harriet Trombley pipes up “This moon is actually unusually large because it used to be another planet. It was knocked out of its own orbit and into Markav’s orbit a few billion years ago.”

“Damn,” replies Person.

Silence envelopes the Flyer once more. Colbert goes back to at the horizon. Mostly out of boredom, she taps her man on turret position on the leg, “See anything, Hasser?”

“No m’am,” Hasser replies. A pause and then, “wait, there’s something at our one o’clock.”

“Hm,” Colbert takes out her binoculars and points them in the direction Hasser gave her. It takes her a few moments, but eventually her eyes land on what Hasser must have been spotting. “Four enemy vehicles- appear to be hovercrafts- at our one o’clock, about two klicks away. Person, call it in.”

“Got it,” Person responds, before picking up the ground-only radio transmitter. “Person to Company, enemy contact, four hovercrafts on our one o’clock, about two klicks away, do you copy?”

Colbert has returned to looking out the window with her binoculars, when she notices movement on her four o’clock; phaser fire. “Hasser, contact right!” she yells before grabbing the radio from Person, “Colbert to Company, enemy is now at our four o’clock, three hundred meters away. They have engaged, I repeat, they have engaged. Do you copy?”

Fick’s voice comes across the channel, “Fick to Company, I copy. Engage enemy, over.”

“Hasser!” says Colbert, turning around to see that her Gunner has been sitting stock still the entire time. “Did you hear that? Engage the enemy!”

Hasser visibly jerks in his seat, head turning to look once at Colbert, eyes wide in surprise, uttering a startled “yes ma’am.” But it’s barely a second until his expression sets and he begins firing.

“Trombely, do we have our shields up?” Colbert asks.

“Yes, ma’am. Shields at are at one hundred percent.”

Colbert raises her binoculars once again trying to get another look at the enemy, but the Flyer is jerking too much every time Hasser fires it’s phasers for her to get the lenses steady. This actually turns out to be fine because the enemy is definitely close enough to see without binoculars now.

“Shit,” Colbert mutters under her breath.

Hasser is still firing his phaser and the other vehicles have finally joined in, and they’re basically bombarding the enemy with phaser fire. Of course, the enemy is still doing the same thing, except they probably don’t have shields, Colbert thinks, a thought that is proven correct when one of the enemy crafts explodes taking out two of the other crafts. Another few rounds of phaser fire and the fourth and final enemy craft goes down as well, but not before one of the Flyers begins swerving dangerously across the desert and Ensign Gabriela Garza’s voice comes crackling across the radio, “Gazra to Vehicle 5, Lilley’s been hit! Lilley’s been hit, over!”

Fick’s voice comes over the radio immediately afterwards, “Fick to Company, gather by destroyed enemy craft. Keep hand-phasers at ready, over.”

Person directs the Flyer over towards the wreckage, and by the time they get there and out of their vehicle, Lilley is laid out on the back of his Flyer, groaning. In addition, Ensign Espera’s leaning over him going, “Don't waste your time with him, Doc. My boy's been smoked.”

Ensign Wynn turns to the rest of the assembled company, who are all standing tensely around Lilley’s vehicle, phasers at the ready, concern writ across his face “Is anybody else hit?”

Colbert steps up and lays a hand on Wynn’s shoulder, “I think we’re all good, Ensign,” she says in the most comforting voice that she can muster.

Meanwhile, Doc Byran seems to have given Lilley a once-over and determined that he is, in fact,  okay, so naturally Garza’s currently leaned over him, taunting, “How's it feel, motherfucker? How's it feel to be fucking dead?”

“Bro,” says Lilley, raising his hand up against his face, squinting his eyes against the bright sun, and looking very dazed and confused in general, “It feels sad. I feel very alone. And also, I gotta take a shit.”

The company laughs, a deep resounding sound that breaks the tension, and even Fick comes up and says; “Lilley, you make a nice combat casualty. Congrats.” But then he’s all business and says, “Alright, let’s clean this mess up.”

The group breaks, all of them going about picking up various pieces of small wreckage and destroying them with their phaser beams, and taking the larger pieces and stowing them in their Flyers to be disposed of at base.

“So much for all that ‘you won’t experience any enemy contact until you reach Markav IV’ bullshit,” says Person, toeing a burnt piece of hovercraft with her boot.

“That wasn’t real enemy contact, yo. I didn’t even get to use my hand-phaser, like, to kill a dude,” says Trombley, looking dejectedly at the small, black phaser in her hands. It isn’t even set to ‘kill’.

“Man, shut the fuck up.”

**\------**

There’s absolutely no more enemy contact for the rest of Bravo Unit’s trip to the KW8 Star Fleet outpost.

“This is fucking unnerving as shit,” Yeoman Person mutters half to herself, hands shaking infinitesimally on the controls.

**\------**

**LOCATION** : KW8 STARFLEET BASE  
 **STARDATE** : 2371.109  
 **TIME** : 1200

Currently, all of the vehicle leaders of Bravo Unit are gathered around a table in sparsely lit room in the basement of KW8’s Star Fleet outpost. It smells moldly, the chairs look they’re decaying, and the table itself is uneven. Honestly, it’s probably the only room the outpost could spare at this time, but that doesn’t make it any less shitty. At least they have water to drink.

Espera leans across the table, causing it to rock precariously and Wynn shoots her a look as his water spills a bit, “Lieutenant Fick, sir! This was the first time any of us have ever fired on-vehicle phasers.”

Fick looks at him, “Yep, and we were good until your team went down, Ensign Espera.”

Espera looks shocked, and begins stuttering.

Fick isn’t having any of it, “You _all_ slowed your vehicles down. I know that was our first enemy contact, but you _do not_ stop in a kill zone. Other than that, we had good dispersion. The geometry of fire was good.  We communicated.”

Ensign Wynn speaks up suddenly, “Sir, do you mean to say that we are to just drive past down vehicles and leave them?”

“Yes,” says Fick seriously, “If we make enemy contact again, and I’m sure we will, we need to be able to get rid of them as quickly as possible so they are unable to transmit any information about our presence. Slowly down or stopping to help a downed vehicle leaves too wide of a window for their transmissions to go through. We are giving support by fire only.”

“Sir, we’ve got a limited group of people here and reinforcements aren’t an option,” says Ensign Wynn, eyebrows creasing, “None of us are good to anybody if we're dead.”

Ensign Colbert nods her head in agreement with Wynn, “Lieutenant, could it be possible, if we have a downed vehicle, to also have the nearest vehicle stop and evaluate the situation while the rest of us provide support by fire?”

Fick glares across the table at Colbert like he’s trying to bore a hole through her skull, but she locks their eyes together, holding his gaze. Colbert doesn’t flinch one bit and Fick’s the one to look away first. “Yeah, that works, Colbert. All of you should inform your teams of this.”

He coughs once and then stands up, smoothing his pants with the palms of his hands, “Alright, chow in an hour, see all of you there.”

Meeting adjourned.

**\------**

**TIME** : 1315

“It's titanium,” Ensign Colbert states, eyes narrowing. She’s currently in the base’s supply room arguing with some Redshirt trying to get him to give her some titanium for her damn Flyer’s shields. “About six pounds, round, sorta looks like a frisbee. Listen, kid, I got good intel that you’ve got in here, so just hand it over already.”

He stares blankly, “What did you say you needed it for again?”

“For the shields on my main gunner.”

“Shields?”

Colbert sighs exasperatedly, “Look, do you have it or not?

The Redshirts strikes a pose, forefinger on his mouth looking in a mockery of an ‘I’m-trying-to-remember-something-important-pose’, “Hmm.”

Colbert’s about two seconds away from beating the shit out of this kid, when Ensign Reyes approaches from behind her and taps her on the shoulder.

“Ah, hello Ensign Reyes,” says Colbert, trying to remove all traces of exasperation from her expression, “What can I help you with?”

“Ensign Colbert, it's very important,” says Reyes. “There’s been an, uh, issue in one of the cabins.”

“God fuc-,” sighs Colbert, rubbing her hand across her face. “Alright, alright, let’s go.”

Right before they both leave the room, Colbert turns around and points at the Redshirt threateningly, putting on her most menacing face; “I’ll be back later, you hear? And I better have my shield by then.”

The door slides shut behind her, leaving a rather scared-shitless Redshirt behind.

**\------**

“Gentlemen, what the hell is Yeoman Person doing on the floor?” Colbert asks immediately upon entering the vehicle one cabin. On the floor of said cabin is one Yeoman Ray-Ann Person, who is currently pressing a towel to the side of her face and groaning dramatically.

“Uh, the stove underneath Rudy's espresso pot went off while Ray was trying to make a cup,” says Hasser, his face oddly contorted.

“Flamed our girl’s face like a rotisserie chicken,” says Espera, nodding her head knowledgably.

“Let me understand this. My driver has just been burned, in her team cabin, by an exploding portable stove. And without my driver, I will be attempting to invade an entire planet, unable to quickly and effectively establish radio communications within our unit, and to drive the goddamn vehicle. Is this what is happening? How did you even get an espresso maker in here?”

“That and they're probably gonna court martial all our asses for operating a stove in the cabin against the regs,” Espera says.

“Over an espresso maker? This team is going down over an espresso maker?” Colbert sits down on one of the beds.

“That’s what you get for putting white folks in charge.”

“Espera,” says Colbert, “Get the hell out of here.”

**\------**

**LOCATION** : OFFICER MEETING ROOM, USS PENDELTON  
 **STARDATE** : 2371.109  
 **TIME** : 1530

Opposed to the shitty atmosphere of the meeting room on KW8, the USS Pendelton’s senior officer meeting room (located on deck 3) is pretty damn nice; no smell of mold, no decaying chairs, no uneven table. In fact, the table is probably the nicest thing in the room, considering it has a state-of-the-art interactive hologram projector, on which a map of KW8 and Markav IV are currently being displayed.

There’s also a live-feed, holographic display of Lieutenant Fick.

Commander Eckloff fiddles with her PAAD for a few moments before bringing up a display showing the predicted weather for Markav IV today. An automated voice rattles off, “Today's high is expected to twenty-nine point forty-five degrees Celsius. Winds are expected to reach one hundred and twelve kilometers per hour.”

Fick’s holographic double nods, “Weather's got a better chance of irritating us than the Markavis.”

S’tekev taps his fingers against the table, “Admiral Mittas has told me that you are continue with your ongoing preparations KW8 and that you will be shipping out in two days."

Fick nods in conformation.

Commander Patterson raises his hand. “Sir, I received a transmission from an Ensign Ray-Ann Person today requesting maps.”

“We’ll send down maps with Lieutenant Meesh tomorrow morning.”

“Sir,” says Lieutenant Schwetje, rather hesitantly.

“Yes Lieutenant?”

“Um, what is the policy on the wearing of the beanies? When should they be worn?”

“That is irrelevant,” states S’tekev blankly. “However, maintaining a grooming standard is important, the crew knows that. If they don’t, remind them; between 0900 and 1700 watch caps are not allowed.”

“If anyone doesn’t having anything else to add,” S’tekev gives a pointed look around the room, “That’ll be all for now. You are all dismissed.”

As the other officers leave, Eckloff goes about shutting off the holographic transmission of Fick.

“Commander Eckloff, you are dismissed,” S’tekev says, “Please leave Lieutenant Fick on the screen; we have some matters to discuss.”

“Ok, Captain. Shall I see you on the bridge at 1600?”

“Affirmative.”

There’s a sliding click of a door as Eckloff leaves the room, and then S’tekev turns back to Fick; “Lieutenant, as I understand a member of your unit has sustained a casualty. Ensign Person was burned. May I know the details of this?”

“Ensign Person sustained minor injuries when a cook stove being operated according to regulations suffered a catastrophic failure.”

“And you witnessed this?”

“No, sir. However, I received many second hand reports about the swift action of my Unit to treat Ensign Person.”

“Lieutenant Fick, you might want to consider writing up some of these men for commendation.

“Uh, was that, uh, humor sir?”

S’tekev smiles.

“Um, yes I, I will consider that, sir.”

“Good.”

S’tekev turns off the transmission.

**\------**

**LOACTION** : KW8 STARFLEET BASE  
 **DATE** : 2371.110  
 **TIME** : 0700

Fick stands in front of his unit, giving them what could only be marginally described as a ‘pep-talk’:

“We’re all being called upon to invade a planet full of civilians,” he states blankly. “But at the same time, we don't know if the people shooting at us are gonna be in uniform or looking like miners. If we shoot civilians, we're gonna be in a lot of shit, considering this whole mission isn’t even supposed to be happening. So, what it boils down to is this; if, in your mind, you fire to protect yourself or your team, it's the right thing to do.

“Now,” says Fick, “we’re gonna be breaking open your uniforms. Since we can’t be seen running around in Starfleet uniforms, we’ll be wearing some-what traditional Markavi trader clothes. The good news about these uniforms is that these trader clothes are pretty nondescript, meaning if we get caught and we don’t look Markavi it’ll be harder for the enemy to piece everything together. Additionally, there have been some modifications to these clothes, to make them more ‘battle-ready’, so to speak. So, it’s not gonna be like we’re going in there with nothing but a thin piece of cotton on our backs. Now, line up and get ‘em.”

The men line up in front of the table Fick’s standing behind and begin chatting aimlessly. Fick starts calling out names for people to come up and collect their uniforms. Thankfully, he doesn’t have too much trouble and only has to say , “No, get changed in your c _abin_ , Ensign! Not here!” a couple of times and only has to say “Espera, I don’t care if you think this is cultural appropriation. You’re gonna wear this or you can leave” once.

In the middle of the list, a random Redshirt assigned to the outpost comes over to Fick and taps him on the shoulder, “Lieutenant Fick, sir, we’ve just received a transmission from the USS Pendelton. Lieutenant Meesh is attempting to beam down and we need your permission to continue. Sir.”

“Thank you for letting me know,” Fick states briskly. “Yeoman Holsey!” Fick calls, beckoning to the young crewmember, “Come over here and take care of the rest of these uniforms. I have to go retrieve Lieutenant Meesh from the transporter room. Tell the unit I expect them ready to go by 0830.”

“Yes sir.”

**\------**

**TIME** : 0716

The outpost’s humanoid transport station is on the small side. With only one operations Yeoman on duty and only four transport pads, it’s definitely the smallest that Lieutenant Fick has ever seen.

“Yeoman…?” Fick intones as he approaches the console. The Yeoman turns around sharply, and her hand jerks at her side, almost like she wants to salute Fick.

“Yeoman Swarr, sir.”

“Yeoman Swarr, I have been informed that you  received a transmission from Lieutenant Meesh of the USS Pendelton this morning requesting transporting rights? May I enquire into the details of that occurrence?”

“Yes sir, that is true. We received the transmission at 0617, but were unable to comply with request due to current safety protocols.”

“May I see it?”

“Certainly, sir,” the Yeoman turns back to her console and begins typing away. Presently, she pulls up the transmission log with Lieutenant Meesh’s message on it. “There she is, sir.” Fick looks over the message, nodding his head. “Now, we just need you to enter the correct authorization codes and I’ll be able to beam Lieutenant Meesh down.”

Fick leans over the console, types in a random sequence of letters, numbers, and symbols, and then turns around to face the young Yeoman once again; “All done.”

“Alright,” says the Yeoman, resuming her spot at the console. “I’ll call them up, see if they’re ready, and then we can beam the Lieutenant down.”

The Yeoman taps a message out onto her console, and then they both stand there in somewhat uncomfortable silence as they wait for the reply. Thankfully, they don’t have to wait long, as whoever is currently on duty in the Pendelton’s transporter room replies promptly, stating that ‘Lieutenant Meesh is ready to beam down’.

There’s the humming of the transporter beam working, a moment where golden strands of light coil around a figure, and then Lieutenant Meesh is in the room with them, some maps in her left hand.

“Ugh,” she says, holding her stomach with her free hand. “That shit always makes me nauseous.”

**\------**

**TIME** : 0819

“Yo Walt! You seen Brad around?” Person asks, eyes squinting up into Hasser’s. “I can’t find her anywhere and we’re supposed to be heading out, like, now.”

“Yea,” says Hasser rubbing a hand along the back of his neck, “I’m not really sure where Brad is right now. Have you checked the bathroom?”

“Fuck, no, I haven’t,” hisses Person shaking her head, “Thanks for reminding me, man.” She gives Hasser a good-natured slap on the shoulder before making her way over to the bathrooms located on the far-end of the garage.

Person knocks on one the doors and calls, “Yo Brad, did you fall in in there or something? Need any help getting un-stuck?”

A muffled, “Ray, is that you?” makes its way through the door. And, yea, that’s definitely Brad in there, so Ray opens the door, which isn’t locked.

“Man,” Rays asks, eyeing Colbert up from where she sits on the toilet, “Are you taking a shit?”

“Yeah man, now fuck off.”

Brad slams the door shut.

**\------**

**TIME** : 0829

When Colbert finally makes her way out of the bathroom, Person, Hasser, and Trombley are all already set-up inside the Flyer.

“Walt, you were right man,” Ray says once she spots Colbert, “She _was_ in the bathroom. She was taking a shit.”

Hasser laughs once, “Dude, I don’t need to know about that.”

“Yea right,” Ray snorts, “All you back-wood hick types are into that shit. Like, scat-fetish or whatever the hell it’s called. Aren’t I right Brad?”

Colbert takes a seat in her chair and begins booting up her system, “Now Ray, if anyone is the expert on weird, hick sexual practices, it would be you. Now shut the hell up, we’re almost ready to roll out.”

Colbert spots Lieutenant Meesh coming through the door on the other side of the garage. She’s walking purposely towards their Flyer. Person laughs once, “Shit man, Meesh got assigned to our vehicle.” She turns to look at Trombley, “Yo buckle up, man. Safety first and all that shit. ‘Cause if ya don’t Meesh’ll freak out on ya.”

The door on the right side of the Flyer clicks open with beep and a mechanical swooshing noise. Lieutenant Meesh steps through the doorway and nods once to Colbert; “Ensign Colbert,” she says, “I’ve been assigned to your Flyer.”

Colbert nods back once at her, “Lieutenant Meesh, it appears you have. If you could please take your seat, we are almost ready to begin takeoff. Isn’t that right Yeoman Person?”

Just then, Fick’s voice crackles across their radio, “Fick to Company, we are on the move. All vehicles are to maintain a fifty meter dispersion at forty-five kilometers per hour. Do not break formation, over.”

As the Flyers’ engines begin rumbling to life, Espera says, to no-one in particular; “Check it out, dawg, white man won't be denied.”

Bravo Unit rolls out of the outpost, dust and rocks being kicked up in their wake.

**\------**

_The following excerpt is from the textbook PLANETS OF THE FEDERATION: A COMPREHENSIVE HISTORY, GUIDE AND ANALYSIS; 5TH EDITION by J.C. McKay. This particular section is a summary of Marvkav IV’s basic history. No part of this excerpt has been edited in any way, shape, or form:_

**NAME** : MARKAV IV  
 **PLANET TYPE** : M CLASS  
 **CAPITAL CITY** : BHARA  
 **POPULATION** : 1.6 BILLION  
 **DATE OF DISCOVERY** : 2212.189  
 **DATE OF INAUGURATION INTO FEDERTION** : 2267.204

It is estimated that, similar to the beginnings of Earth and other planets that have produced humanoid species, Markav IV was once a barren waste-land of volcanic eruptions, offering little-to-no space for the development of life. However, about4.5 billion years after the creation of the Nahi Solar System, Markav IV’s neighboring planet, KW8, was knocked out of the sun’s orbit and into Markav IV’s orbit by an asteroid. Because of this event, there was a drastic change in the climate of Markav IV, changes which included the planet turning, mostly, into desert, still without any organisms thriving on its surface.

Many scientists, xeno-geologists and –biologists alike, are still unsure as to when exactly life began to develop on Markav IV. What is known for certain, however, is when the first humanoid creatures began developing on its surface; about 6.7 billion years after its creation. These early people settled in between the two great, and only, rivers of Markav IV; the Jikari and Hityloa Rivers. Besides these few facts, very little else is known about these people. Any records that may have been left in the form of paintings or clothing depicting their culture has most likely been eroded and swept away by the desert sand. For the most part, their way of life remains a mystery to both Federation and Markavi archeologists.

The Markavi begin documenting their history around the Stardate -560 with the creation of _K’liva_ , which is the written version of their native language, _Ka’livra_. This written text first appeared along with creation of the Gharviat Kingdom, which lasted for about five hundred and ninety three Standard years. During this time period, the Markavi underwent great technological advancements; from the development of the wheel at the beginning of the kingdom’s creation, to the development of early surgical methods near the end. The Gharviat Kingdom, at the height of its power, controlled the entire expanse of land between the Jikari and Hityloa Rivers. At this time, the Kingdom was resigned over by Juri (King) Gralifik, who was known for his levelheadedness. Additionally, this region earned the name _Kire vo’ Gharviat_ (Cradle of Civilization) during this time period.

Eventually, the Gharviat Kingdom fell apart, dissolving into civil war for approximately one hundred and fifty-three years. During this war, little records were kept, so most of our knowledge of what occurred during the conflict is obscure at best. However, we do know the end to this conflict; emerging from this _Y’aki Bartiko_ (Great War) were two new kingdoms, each who had control over a river. Their names were the Jikarita and the Hityloayin Kingdoms, both of which lasted about two thousand years. There was another group, known as the Maki _,_ who became nomads and ventured into the Makit’ica Desert. It is unknown what happened to them.

It is important to note that during this time, religion, which was not documented in texts previous to this time period, was beginning to appear. It appears that, despite whatever differences the two Kingdoms must have held during the Y’aki Bartiko, they share the same religious beliefs. It is also interesting to note that this new religion’s name was _Gharviat_ , however this word no longer referred to the Gharviat Kingdom nor did it mean “civilization” as it once had. Instead, it had taken a dramatic turn and was now being used to mean “stars”. In fact, the entire Gharviat religion revolved around worshipping celestial bodies, the stars in particular. It is assumed that this is because star-charting might have played an integral role in the various victories of either side during Y’aki Bartiko.

During the height of the Jikarita and the Hityloayin Kingdoms, the people prospered. This mostly has to do with that fact that, despite the tense relationships that existed following the Y’aki Bartiko, trade between the two Kingdoms flourished. In fact, this trade may have played a major role in the spread of the Gharviat religion. Furthermore, the spread of the Gharviat religion lead to major advancements in the arts, leading to an almost renaissance-esque time period known as _G’tiyla_. During the G’tiyla, poetry began developing within Markavi culture, while previously prose had been the most common form of written, artistic expression. The visual arts also underwent great changes during this time; most notably, art began appearing more often in public places versus the homes and buildings of the Kingdoms’ elite. Further advancements were also made in the sciences during this time, particularly in the Aerospace field. In fact, it was these advancements that lead to the discovery of the large deposits of dithilium crystals on the planet’s surface.

Unfortunately, the Kingdoms’ period of peace did not last. For reasons that are still unknown to Federation xenopolitical scientists, both Kingdoms began dissolving into chaos within fifty years of each other. During this time, many different, new political groups attempted to gain power and unite the two fallen kingdoms. The only groups successful in gaining power, however, were the _I’tkyo_ from the Jikarita Kingdom and the _Yukira_ from the Hityloayin Kingdom. However, neither of these groups was popular with the populace of either Kingdoms and therefore, was quickly thrown out of power in a religious movement known as the _Kint’da_.

The Kint’da called for the reunification of the two ex-Kingdoms and for the various peoples of Markav IV to begin to refer to themselves as one people under the name _Gharviati_. On a smaller scale, there was also a large push to improve living standards through industrialization as well as a desire to continue developing Aerospace technology at a more rapid pace. The Kint’da was successful in many of these fields- especially in the line of developing Aerospace technology- which ultimately lead them to joining the Federation in 2267.

Their inauguration into the Federation also led to yet another movement, known simply as the Markavi Unification Process. Because of this, modern-day citizens of Markav IV no longer refer to themselves as Jikarita or Hityloayin, nor do they refer to themselves as Gharviati as they did during the Kint’da. Now, many are content to refer to themselves as Markavi and are happy with their position within the Federation.

**\------**

**LOCATION** : SOME COUPLE HUNDERD-THOUSAND MILES ABOVE THE SURFACE OF MARKAV IV  
STARDATE: 2371.110  
TIME: 1056

“Starships are meant to flyyyy. Hands up and touch the skyyyy. Can’t stop ‘cause we’re so highhh. Let’s do this one tiiiiime. Oh oh ohHH-”

“Ray,” Colbert intones, face completely serious, “I’m going to need you to shut up.”

Trombley, on the other hand, is cracking up in the backseat. She’s hunched over her navigation console, shaking with laughter.

“Yo,” says Person, craning her neck to look at Trombley, “What’s so funny?”

“I can’t believe you like Nicki Minaj, man.”

“What can I say,” says Person, leaning her head back and closing her eyes, “Gaudy twenty-first century pop music is my heroin.”

“Keep your eyes on the road, Person,” says Colbert.

“We’re in space, Brad. There aren’t any roads.”

“You know what I mean.”

Silence once again envelopes the Flyer, calm and steady, until Trombley points out of her window and shouts, “What the hell is that?”

She’s gesturing towards a bright red streak off to the far left of their viewing screen. Whatever it is, it’s flying into Markav IV’s atmosphere at a remarkable speed.

Brad raises her binoculars to her eyes, “ _Fuck,_ is that Reyes’ vehicle?”

**\------**

**TIME** : 1111

Someone once said that, “Space is disease and danger wrapped in darkness and silence”. And you’re a fool if you doubt that, because it is true and there’ve been plenty of examples throughout history to prove it. However, more often than not, these instances could have been prevented through the elimination of human error. This is something that the original speaker failed to address. 

For example, currently five Vulcan Desert Flyers are hurtling through space for the second time in a seventy-two hour period. See, the thing is, Vulcan Desert Flyers aren’t meant to withstand the vacuum of space. They aren’t designed to enter planets’ atmospheres at high speeds. They are meant to _fly over_ _deserts_ , and nothing else.

So really, it’s no surprise when Vehicle Three’s external damper does not engage. Or, when their navigation console begins to malfunction, causing them to unknowingly careen into debris. Or when they are unable to engage their thrusters and pull away from the grip of Markav IV’s gravity. Or when their sides begin to come apart from one another as they enter the atmosphere; metal shingles peeling off one by one and burning up, hot and fast.  Or when, lost somewhere in the roaring of the Flyers engine and the sound of groaning metal being ripped to shreds, the crew of Vehicle Three begins screaming.

Once the hull is breached, their blood boils in thirteen seconds.

**\------**

**FILE TYPE** : AUDIO  
 **TIME STAMP** : 1058-1115, 2371.110  
 **ORIGIN** : UNIT RADIO

_“Reyes to Company, we appear to be having issues with our external dampner, over.”_

_“Colbert to Vehicle Three, engage back-up dampner, over.”_

_“Reyes to Vehicle Four, back-up dampner is also non-functional, over.”_

_“Trombley to Vehicle Three, have you tried disengaging and re-engaging the dampner’s console, over.”_

_“Reyes to Vehicle One, attempts at rebooting the console were unsuccessful, over.”_

_“Lilley to Vehicle Three, do you require assistance in adjusting your course, over.”_

_“Reyes to Vehicle Two, negative. Beginning descent into Markav IV, over.”_

_“Colbert to Vehicle Three, do not enter atmosphere. I repeat do not enter atmosphere, that’s an order, over.”_

_“Reyes to Vehicle Four, cannot pull back, over.”_

_“Trombley to Vehicle Three, can you engage thrusters, over.”_

_“Reyes to Vehicle One, negative, over.”_

_“Colbert to Vehicle Five, pull them out of there, over.”_

_“Lovell to Vehicle Four, sir we cannot pull them out. They’re already falling, over.”_

_“Colbert to Vehicle Three, do you copy? Put all your power into getting out of that fall, over.”_

_“Reyes to Vehicle Fou-“_

_-RADIO SILENCE FOR ONE POINT SIX-EIGHT MINUTES-_

_“Colbert to Vehicle Three, do you copy? I repeat, do you copy?”_

_STATIC_

**\------**

**LOCATION** : ABOVE THE MAKIT’ICA DESERT  
 **STARDATE** : 2371.110  
 **TIME** : 1200

Colbert feels like her stomach has dropped out of her abdomen.

She closes her eyes for a moment, rubbing a hand across her face, and taking a few deep breaths before opening her eyes again, blinking back tears. She chances a glance over at Person, who is sitting rigid in her own seat, immobile.

“Bra- Ensign Colbet, m’am,” says Hasser, choking around the first part of Colbert’s given name, “There appears to be some sort of unit on the ground.”

“Trombley,” says Colbert, “Can you confirm?”

Trombley fumbles with the controls on the navigation console for moment before replying, “Affirmative, m’am. There is a unit on the ground. It is uncertain whether or not they are hostile.”

“Alright. Person, call it in.”

Person makes no move towards the radio.

Trombley coughs once, loud in the dead, empty silence that is enveloping the Flyer. The noise seems to jolt Person out of whatever state she was in, because she jumps in her seat and makes a grab for the radio.“P-person to Company,” she stutters, “Possible unit spotted on ground. Permission to engage, over.”

“Fick to Vehicle One, hold your dispersion and do not engage, over.”

Hasser drums his fingers nervously against his gun, “Why aren't they shooting at us?”

Colbert shakes her head and Trombley begins counting down the meters left until they make contact with the surface:

“Five thousand six hundred seventy five meters… Five thousand six hundred seventy meters… Five thousand six hundred sixty meters… Five thousand six hundred sixty meters… Five thousand six hundred fifty five meters… Five thousand six hundred fifty meters… Five thousand six hundred fourty fou-“

“Contact right!” Colbert yells as bright orange phaser fire begins pummeling their Flyer, momentarily knocking them sideways. Hasser moves to begin firing but Colbert throws up her hands, stopping him, “Don’t return fire, not until we get orders!”

“Evasive maneuvers implemented, Ensign,” says Person, her face set in a grimace of concentration and her hands flying across the controls.

“Shields at ninety seven percent… ninety five percent,” Trombley rattles off.

Colbert looks out her viewing screen and notices that other Flyers are beginning to be attacked as well. _Surely the command vehicle will give orders soon,_ she thinks.

Just then, their radio crackles to life, “Fick to Company, ground unit has been confirmed as an enemy, engage. I repeat, the ground unit has been confirmed as an enemy, engage, over.”

“Here we go, boys,” yells Person.

Hasser presses his finger to the trigger controls and begins firing off in successive, steady rounds. The Flyer shakes as the barrage of phaser fire continues, “Everyone strap in,” Colbert commands, before standing up herself and turning around to look at the crew of Vehicle One. The Flyer sways once again, causing her to rock back and forth in the Vehicle losing her balance, but she grabs ahold of a bar located on its ceiling for support, gaining control again. “Trombley, enable your weapons.”

“Yes m’am.”

“Lieutenant Meesh,” Colbert calls.

“Yes Ensign,” Meesh says, looking up from the viewing screen in front of her face.

“I am going to man the rear weapons console, you have the conn.”

“Yes Ensign.” She stands right away and makes room in the narrow passageway for Colbert to pass as she makes her way to the rear weapons console. Colbert squeezes past her with a muffled, “Thank you, Lieutenant.”

Colbert sits down at the rear weapons console and straps herself in, before pulling up the screen and tapping in her authorization codes. She types in a few more words into the console and then a block of green comes up on her screen flashing “WEAPONS ENABLED” in a bold, bright print. With her face twisted up in a grimace, she begins firing right away.

The Flyer begins making the last swoop of its descent, and they are now almost parallel to the surface of the planet. “Trombley,” Colbert calls, “Are we low enough in the atmosphere to open our windows?”

“I got one.  I got one!” Trombley laughs excitedly, a smile playing across her face. “I-I mean, affirmative, ma’am.”

“Good. Lieutenant Meesh, open your window and begin firing with your hand phaser, if you please,” Colbert shouts.

Meesh spares Colbert one glance backwards and a nod, before she’s opening her window and sticking the majority of her torso out of it, firing away.

Hasser begins cursing from his station, “Fuck, the first gun is down!”

Just then, there’s an explosion in front them, and the resulting blast rocks their entire Flyer. It’s followed by screams and two more explosions of, presumably, two other enemy vehicles. “Shit!” Meesh yells, pulling herself out of the window. “Person, slow the fuck down! We’re going to get caught in that if you don’t!”

But Person doesn’t slow down, if anything, she speeds up. “ _Shit_ ,” Colbert mutters under her breath. She un-buckles herself from her seat and pulls herself over the chair Person’s sitting in. Leaning over the back of said chair she speaks directly into Person’s ear; “Person! Slow down! That’s an order.”

Person slams on the brakes.

There’s a moment where they’re all jerked violently back and forth with the momentum of the vehicle, but once that passes it’s like they all collectively let out one big breath. Colbert has to fight the urge to slump against the back of Person’s chair in relief.

“God... fuck!” Hasser yells, throwing his “authentic Markavi trader’s hat” on the ground in a fit of adrenaline-fueled joy or anger or _something_. “Shit!”

“We got fucking lit up,” Colbert whispers to herself.

The radio crackles to life for the first time since they made enemy contact, it’s Fick; “Fick to Company, status report. Are you all okay, over.”

Person laughs at that, bright and happy and alive.

“Man! Everybody is okay, right?” Colbert asks, twisting in her seat.

“Yes!” shouts Person, still laughing.

“Yeah, just _fuck,_ ” says Hasser, shaking his head.

Meesh just nods.

Trombley, on the other hand, gives Colbert and enthusiastic two thumbs up and says, “Hey, I fucking got one!”

“You sure you’re all right?” Colbert jokes, raising her eyebrows questioningly.

Person whistles, and Trombley just laughs excitedly in reply.

**\------**

**TIME** : 1254

The entirety of Bravo Unit stands gathered around the wreckage of the destroyed Markavi Unit. Doc Bryan in particular stands in front of the survivors-now-prisoners-of-war of the Markavi Unit that Bravo Unit just took down, assessing the situation carefully. There are five of them total, and two of them have major wounds. The other three seem to be relatively unscathed apart from some smudges of ash and scratches on their arms, legs, and face.

Lieutenant Meesh is also there, chatting away in K’liva to the prisoners. Currently, she’s nodding at whatever one of them is saying and making a sort of “hmming” sound in the back of her throat. When the Markavi is done speaking, she turns to Doc Bryan, her face unreadable; “This one’s name is Hakir. This one says that the survivors are all part of this one’s squad. They are all surrendering to us, Doctor Bryan.”

Bryan’s about to open his mouth to say something when Fick strides up, effectively cutting him off; “No can do, Lieutenant Meesh. I’m under orders to execute any Markavi that we come into contact with; surrendered or not. There’s just too big of a risk that we’ll be detected.”

Meesh has gone back to talking with the Markavi, Hakir.

“What is he saying?” asks Fick.

“This one says that their unit was on patrol. They had no prior knowledge of us arriving,” says Meesh. The Markavi behind her is nodding his head imploringly.

Fick lets out a sigh, “And you expect me to believe this?”

“Sir, this one says he can show you his assignment on his communications device.”

Fick shakes his head, “Look, I don’t care if they _were_ just on a routine patrol. I am mandated to unsurrender these Markavis and execute them.”

Byran shakes his head and spits once on the ground, “Our first contact with non-hostile Markavi natives and we fuck ‘em over. Nice Starfleet morals there.”

“And what would you have me do with them? Welcome them into the unit? I suggest you stow that attitude of yours unless you’re looking to get court martialed,” Fick says dangerously. “Now, Vehicle Five, take these guys around the back of your Flyer, take care of ‘em. Lilley, Gazra, you’re in charge of burning the bodies.”

Fick kicks over a piece of burnt metal.

“And clean this shit up.”

**\------**

No screams.

Phaser fire, bright red.

Five enemy bodies hit the desert sand with a thud.

The fire burns for three hours straight.

**\------**

**TIME** : 1748

The sun is just beginning to set, and it’s turning the horizon of Markav IV into a brilliant light show of purple and red and orange clouds. Inside her Flyer, Ensign Person is relaxing by cleaning her hand phaser, watching said sunset, and singing. Of course.

“When you’re on a holidayyy, you can’t find no words to sayyy. All the things that come to youuu and I wanna feel it toooo. On an island in the sunn, we’ll be playing and havin’ funn. And it makes me feel so fine I can’t control my brain.” Person suddenly stops singing, to point out her window. “Look at that shit,” she says, to no one in particular, “Now, this is the kind of shit I signed up for Starfleet to see. Fuckin’ beautiful.”

“I’m pretty sure they have sunsets on Earth, Ray,” Hasser comments, sounding unimpressed.

“How the fuck would you know? Ever been there?” Person retorts, eyes twinkling with laughter.

“Forget it,” says Hasser.

Trombley’s in the back of the Flyer, fiddling with the navigation controls like she always is, when she suddenly pipes up and says, “Smells like burnt dog.”

“What?” Person twists in her seat, “What the hell are you doing to this Flyer, Trombley?”

“Nothing!” Trombley yells back, sounding defensive. “I’m just saying, the air still smells like burnt dog from when Gazra and Lilley burned those Markavi.”

“How do you know what burnt dog smells like?” Hasser asks, his interest piqued.

“One time this dog bit my dad and he shot it and then we burned it in my backyard,” Trombley states, like burning a dog in your backyard is a normal activity, at the same time that Person goes; “Walt, Walt, Walt. Do you even know what a dog is? Have you ever even seen one?”

Hasser’s just about to retort when Colbert lets out a colossal sigh from where she’s laying on one of the bunks in the back of the Flyer, “Ray, stop harassing Walt. Trombley, quit being so fucking weird. And all of you shut up, I’m trying to get some sleep.”

Just as the words leave her lips, there’s a knock on the outside of their Flyer and Ensign Wynn appears in the doorway, “Lieutenant Fick wants to speak to you, Ensign Colbert.”

“Awww shit,” Person swears. “Brad, I’m sorry, I forgot to tell you he was on the radio for you earlier.”

Colbert glares at Person.

“I'm sorry,” Person repeats, rubbing at the back her neck bashfully.

Wynn continues to stand awkwardly by the doorway, “Um, well, I got good news for the three of you. You’ve got third watch, which means you’ll get some sleep. I can’t say the same for you, though, Ensign Colbert. I have no idea what Lieutenant Fick wants you for.”

Colberts stands, brushing off her uniform. “It’s fine, Ensign. Let’s just not keep the Lieutenant waiting any longer.” She strides out the doorway, Wynn in tow. At the last minute, she turns around and adds, “You three. Don’t burn the place down while I’m gone, ok?” She smiles and the door shuts automatically behind her as she fully exits the vehicle.

“Sleep?” says Trombley, sounding indignant. “What kind of fucked-up war is this?”

Person has already claimed a bunk and started settling down in it for the night, “Trombs, have you ever heard the expression ‘don’t look a gift horse in the mouth’, before? Seriously, man, shut the fuck up.”

**\------**

**TIME** : 1815

Fick is leaning over a bundle of maps spread across the hood of the Vehicle Four flyer, shaking his head, when Wynn and Colbert approach him.

“Lieutenant Fick,” calls Wynn, “I retrieved Ensign Colbert for you, as per request.”

Fick starts before turning around to face the pair, “Ah, yes thank you Ensign, you are dismissed. Ensign Colbert and I need to speak privately.”

“Yes, sir.”

Fick watches Wynn walk away and waits until the Ensign is out of sight before letting out a sigh and slumping against the Flyer’s hood, rubbing his hand across his face, “The whole situation's not good, Colbert. Unit morale is way down. We’ve lost an entire Vehicle. I just executed five natives.”

“The loss of Vehicle Four was unfortunate; the execution of the natives was unavoidable. As for Unit morale, that is something that can always be raised,” states Colbert, back straight, hands at her side, all perfect-posture and military professionalism.

“Doc Bryan wasn’t happy about it. The execution, that is.”

“Doc Bryan wasn’t informed of our directive.”

“That doesn’t negate his feelings, and I’m not happy knowing there might be disconcertion among the ranks. You do understand what I’m getting at, don’t you Colbert?” Fick asks, raising an eyebrow.

Colbert understands what he means: treason and desertion, both of which are equally deadly for anyone attempting either. “Sir, any of those actions would be illogical, considering our current position. The Unit knows that.”

“Yes, it’s just…” Fick trails off, “I doubt us.”

“Sir, may I remind you that we successfully secured the KW8 outpost. And despite the causalities we sustained, we made a rather successful landing today, especially considering the fact that we were ambushed.”

“I admire your faith, Colbert. But based on what I _know_ is going on out there, it doesn't really seem like we've secured much of anything. We’ve still got a whole planet left.”

Colbert puts a hand on Fick’s shoulder and gives him a reassuring squeeze, “We’ll make it.”

Fick smiles back, “Maybe you’re right.”

**\-----**

**LOCATION** : MIDDLE OF THE MAKIT’ICA DESERT  
 **STARDATE** : 2371.111  
 **TIME** : 0400

There’s a bright beam of red light coming straight for her.

Colbert sits behind a desk on Starbase 11, frozen to her spot. Her hands grip the arm rests of her chair, leaving crescent shaped marks behind and her gaze is fixed on the window opposite her desk. The sounds of roaring metal and the screams of humans and aliens alike surround her. She grips her hands into her seat harder. The glass in front of her shatters and a wild wind follows it, blowing dust and debris into her face.

The beam of red light comes closer still.

She opens her mouth up to scream, but it’s lost in the roa-

Colbert wakes up violently, jolting at the touch of a hand on her shoulder, gently trying to shake her awake. She automatically reaches for hand phaser, drawing it faster than you can blink, ready to fight and kill. A growl, low and dangerous, creeps up her throat and past her lips.

Except it’s just Person, waking her up for their watch, looking mildly frightened. “Come on Brad, it’s our turn,” she whispers, eyes wide and concerned.

Colbert gets off of her cot and slips into her gear without a word; Person waits patiently by the door, eyes downcast and modest. When Colbert’s ready, they go outside and make their way over to their post, where Ensign Leon looks like sie is about to pass out. They tap sie twice on the shoulder and Colbert asks, “Where’s Ensign Christopher?”

Leon yawns once before answering, “He went to go take a piss, over there.” Sie raises sie’s hand and points in the general of Vehicle two.

“Alright, well, let him know that you two have both been relieved of your watch,” Colbert pats sie’s shoulder gently. “Go get some rest, Ensign.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Leon says and gets up to leave.

They both watch Leon make sie’s way over to sie’s vehicle, before they both sit down on the ground. There’s a moment where neither of them makes any movement, but then Person takes out a pack of Earth cigarettes and wordlessly offers one to Colbert, who takes one in hand without questioning, even though she knows they’re not regulation. Person lights them both up and takes a deep drag from hers, then let’s the smoke spill out of her mouth, her eyes closed. Colbert smokes hers with much less vigor and reverence, in favor of studiously watching the horizon with her night vision goggles.

Above them, the stars of the Delta quadrant shine, bright and hopeful.

**\------**

**TIME** : 0800

Fick gathers the remaining vehicle leaders around his map of Markav IV, pointing at various places that he has marked with a red marker; “Our orders are to push north-east until we reach the Kari Mountain Range. Once we reach that, we’re going to be moving east along the mountains and that’ll eventually hook us up with the end of the Jikari and Hityloa Rivers. From there, we’ll just ride the rivers down into Bhara and end this shit.”

Espera looks a Fick skeptically, “You make it sound easy, like we’re just gonna roll in there, no problem. What’s the estimated amount of enemy contact?”

Fick rubs a hand over the back of his neck, “Colbert, you did the math for this, right? What was it?”

“I originally estimated that there was a seven percent chance of enemy contact in the desert,” says Colbert, looking almost embarrassed. “But due to the information we collected from that Markavi unit’s computer, that percentage has been raised to twenty two percent which is a significant jump.” Colbert moves her finger across the map to the Kari Mountains; “There’s a number of strip mining sites in these mountains, so the chance for contact is somewhere between forty two and seventy six percent.”

“Why the range?” asks Wynn, eyebrows creasing quizzically.

“I was not given any indication as to the number of mines in the Kari,” Colbert states blankly before moving her finger over to wear the Jikari and Hityloa Rivers meet their end. “Here we see the percentages increase exponentially.” She drags her finger down the Jikari River, stating percentages as she does so, “Seventy eight, eighty one, eighty five, eighty eight, ninety two, ninety four…” She stops, finger hovering over the black dot on the map marked simply as _Bhara_. “The chance of enemy contact here is at ninety nine point ninety nine percent.”

“Well shit,” Espera swears, “We’re pretty much fucked the entire way.”

**\------**

**TIME** : 0816  

Bravo Unit’s makeshift camp is bustling with activity in the early morning light as they prepare to begin their journey to the Kari Mountains. The crew is busy making any last minute repairs and modifications to their vehicles, Espera’s bitching about something or another, and the entire camp practically hums with the busy whirring of replicators. In fact, it’s the sounds and smells of a late breakfast being prepared that are exactly what makes Ensign Colbert stick her head out of her vehicle, hair still slightly mussed from sleep. Unfortunately, instead of being greeted with a nice plate of eggs, the first thing Colbert sees is Trombley under the hood of their Flyer doing _something_ that doesn’t look very good.

“Trombley,” Colbert calls, except Trombley doesn’t respond. Still in her sleepwear, Colbert steps out of her Flyer and makes her way over to where the upper-half of Trombley’s body has seemingly disappeared into and become one with the vehicle. “Trombley!”

Colbert’s yell must’ve taken Trombley by surprise because she jumps a little, hitting her head and swearing before coming out from underneath the hood looking rather sheepish. “Uh, yes Ensign?”

“Did you eat?” Colbert asks, squinting down at Trombley who, in all honestly, looks dirty and like she hasn’t eaten in a while.

“Yes?”

“Was that a question or an answer?” Trombley blushes some more at that and Colbert shakes her head. “Are you hydrated?”

“Yes, Ensign.”

“Have you defecated?”

“Ensign?”

Just then, Person walks up to them, a plate of replicated eggs and toast in her one hand, wire cutters in the other, “Fuck, Brad. Leave the kid alone. Here, I got you some breakfast.”

“Thanks Ray,” Colbert says, before immediately turning back to berate Trombley. “We have a long day ahead of us. I need you to take a dump now before we get on the road.”

Person pats Colbert once on the shoulder, “Eat your breakfast and take a shit yourself, Brad. Stop riding on everyone else’s dick about their fucking eating and shitting habits.”

**\------**

**TIME** : 0845

“Fick to Company, are all vehicles ready for departure, over.”

“Vehicle 5 ready, over.”

“Vehicle 2 ready, over.”

Ray turns around in her seat to look at her fellow teammates, hands poised over her console, “Are you motherfuckers ready?”

Colbert looks at the faces of every single being in her vehicle, assessing, and then she gives Person one terse nod of conformation. Person gives her a look back, understanding.

Person leans over to the radio, “Vehicle 1 is ready, over.”

“Fick to Company. All clear. Roll out, over.”

The engine revs.

They’re out.

**\------**

**TIME** : 1000

The estimate travel time from where Bravo Unit made camp to where the Kari Mountains are located is about nine hours. With a relatively low percentage of enemy contact predicted, that leaves lots of time to kill. So, of course, Person’s singing. In fact, she’s been singing the same song on repeat for an hour.

“Pull me closer if you think you can hanggg. Hands up, hands tied. Don’t go screaming if I blow you with a banggg,” She croons. “Live fast, die young; bad girls do it well. Live fast, die young; bad girls do it well!”

“Ray!” Hasser calls, sounding put off and annoyed, “Shut the fuck up already! I can’t take your singing anymore, man.”

“Hey, hey, Walt, I’m offended. I thought you thought my singing was beautiful,” Person replies, mock hurt seeping into her voice. “Besides if you guys aren’t gonna talk about anything I gotta fill the silence with _something_.”

“Alright,” Hasser says, conceding. “What do you want us to talk about?”

“I don’t know man, just like, talk about yourselves; where you’re from, what you’re into, all that jazz.”

Hasser pauses, hands tapping against his armrests thoughtfully before he speaks, “Um, well, I’m obviously not human.”

Ray laughs, and gestures to the spots running up and down Hasser’s face, “No fucking shit, man!”

“Haha, yeah, um,” Hasser rubs the back of his neck. “I grew up in the southern part of Trill; this town called Daxia. My parents were both joined and enlisted in Starfleet, so it was kinda just me and my sister by ourselves most of the time.”

“Wait, hold up. You got a sister? Is she hot?”

“Fuck off Ray. But, yea no, I haven’t seen her in a couple years. She got joined when she was eighteen, which is pretty damn early, and I haven’t really spoken to her since. It, it, really changes people you know?”

“No I don’t know, Walt, but go on.”

“Yea but anyway, last I knew of, she was on Deep Space Nine working there. I’m not sure what department though.”

“What about you though? What’ve _you_ got going on in your life?”

“Well for starters I’m stuck on a hostile planet with you.” Person laughs at that, and Hasser can’t help but smile at her reaction. “No, but, seriously I don’t have much going on. I’m kinda estranged from my family, being the only one who isn’t joined. I joined Starfleet right out of what I guess Terrans would call high school, moved to Earth, changed my name, and now I’m here. Not much else to it. What about you though Ray?” Hasser asks leaning forward expectantly in his seat, “Got any juicy stories to tell us?”

“Oh yeah, plenty,” Ray replies, her voice light and joking, “I’ll start you guys off with the basics though; I’m from Missouri, which is located on Earth by the way, and all my life I’ve lived by the same motto.”

“And what’s that?”

“Live fast, die young; bad gir-“

“Ray!”

**\------**

**TIME** : 1538

They’re about six and a half hours into their drive when Colbert breaks the silence that has been surrounding their vehicle ever since Hasser got Person to stop singing;

“Back when I was still in school I was dating this girl; we’d been going out since middle school and we were going to get married after she finished med school and I finished my training at the academy. At the same, time I had this male friend, my best friend actually. He was a betazoid, a real stand-up guy. They both ended up going to the same university, Rutgers, and I went out west to the Academy. When I came back East for winter break they told me they were involved. It kinda broke my heart for a while there.”

“Aw man,” Person intones, “I’m sorry.”

“Naw man, it’s all good now,” Colbert says, smile blinding. “The three of us got a joint partnership certificate about three years ago. It’s nice having friends, you know?”

Person whistles low, “Damn, Brad. You’re one lucky motherfucker you know that right?”

“The hell I do.”

**\------**

**TIME** : 1805

The desert stretches on forever, silent and still.

That is, until Ensign Person starts talking.

“Hey Brad? Do you remember that time we went on shore leave and the whole planet was supposed to be a beach? But then it turned out to be made of giant fucking rocks?”

Colbert shoots Person a confused looked, “Yes, Ray I ... I do remember it very well. But I don't see what relevance this has on our present status.”

“Well take a look out your window, dumbass.”

Colbert does, and what she sees sort of blows her mind; the Kari Mountains rising seemingly out of nowhere, their peaks sharp and jagged, scratching the sky.

“Damn,” Trombley mutters. “Those are some big ass rocks.”

**\------**

**LOCATION** : KARI MOUNTIAN RANGE  
 **STARDATE** : 2371.112  
 **TIME** : 0600

The sun of the Nahi solar system rises at 06:00:58, coming brilliantly over the mountains before its light stretches on across the desert; silent, unending, and all consuming. The star, known as TY89, is one of the hottest burning stars with an M Class planet located in its solar system. In fact, Markav IV is an enigma to scientists as most other planets would’ve burned up in the wake of such intense heat and light. That is not to say that the effects are not felt on the planet, for it certainly is, in the form of dust and heat, the heat, being the defining factor. Truthfully, the shade cast by the mighty Kari Mountains may provide some of the coolest temperatures to be found on the entire planet. And, it is there, in that slight darkness, that Bravo Unit stirs, preparing for the day.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,” swears Person. “Shit!”

“Ray!” Colbert calls from inside Vehicle One, “Get the fuck in here! We’re rolling out!”

“Dude, I can’t find my sunglasses!” Person yells back, skittering nervously around and looking under their vehicle.

“You don’t need your glasses! Let’s go!”

“Not yet!”

“Hasser, get Person in here,” Colbert commands. Hasser gets out of his seat and goes outside, coming up behind Person and picking her up from around her waist, slinging her over his shoulder.

“Put! Me! Down!” Person screeches, fists banging violently against Hasser’s back.

“Nope.” Hasser carries Person- kicking and screaming- into the Flyer. Once inside, he shuts the door and puts her down.

“Thank you, Walt,” says Colbert.

“My pleasure, Ensign,” replies Hasser, smiling slightly.

Person goes to sit down in her seat, whining the entire way, “I thought you were on my side, Walt. How could you do this to me?”

“All’s fair in love and war, Ray.”

**\------**

**TIME** : 1703

Person spots cranes on the horizon at the same moment that Fick’s voice comes over the radio, “Fick to Company, possible mine has been identify ahead. Prepare for the possibility of enemy contact, over.”

“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a mine up ahead,” Person says with a whistle. “Brace yourselves.”

The Flyers continue rushing towards the mining site, dust rolling behind them. They crest the ridge surrounding the site, all with their fingers on their triggers prepared to fire and fight at the slightest hint of an enemy’s presence.

It’s entirely empty in the basin of the site.

“What,” says Trombley. “Where the hell is everyone? I wanted to shoot some scaly-skinned bastards!”

Lieutenant Meesh, who is usually very, very quiet, coughs once, and rather loudly.

“Oh shit. I, um, I didn’t mea-“

Whatever half-assed apology Trombley was going to come up with is interrupted by Fick’s voice; “Fick to Company, exit vehicles and proceed with caution. Sweep the area and regroup at Vehicle Four in an hour, over.”

“Alright,” Colbert says, clapping her hands together. “Let’s get a move on.”

They all gear up and make their way out of the vehicle one-by-one, Hasser being the last one out and being tasked with the job of closing and locking the Flyer behind them.

“Stay close and stay alert,” Colbert reminds them, before beginning to move towards the far end of the site, beckoning for everyone else to follow her. They move silent and stealthily into the basin, taking corners carefully, phasers out and set to kill. They scan the entire area, searching behind and in bins, but it still proves to be completely empty. In fact, the only proof of there ever being life working here is the drill in the middle of the site, rising out of the ground, giant and silver and menacing.

“Shit man,” Person says, “They really cleared the fuck out of here didn’t they?”

Colbert doesn’t say anything, but she squints her eyes and scans the area again, only to come to the conclusion that Person might be right. For the most part, the site seems to be rather tidy, but here and there, there are random objects left on the crates and table; napkins, water bottles, glasses, a half-eaten sandwich. It looks like they left in a rush, but Colbert can tell that everything is has been done with a purpose. For example, there aren’t any papers lying about, nor PAADS or radios or any other technology. All the crates and lockers they’ve examined have been empty.

 _Methodical, purposeful chaos,_ thinks Colbert. _Damn it._ She picks up a piece of fruit that’s gone bad in the heat and resists the urge to smash it in her fists or throw it against the ground. She gently, ever-so-gently, places it back on the table and takes a deep breath.

Hasser approaches her cautiously, “Sir, Lieutenant Meesh has something to show you.”

Colbert hums and nods. “Show the way, Yeoman.”

Hasser directs her towards a stack of crates behind which Meesh, Trombley, and Person are all crouched looking at some kind of hand-held device.

“What’s that?” Colbert asks, pointing at it.

“It’s some kinda comms device,” Person replies looking up. “Similar to a PAAD in shape and design, but with less memory and apps available. Meesh is translating it right now, but as far as I can tell it’s used mostly to mark events.”

Colbert crouches down next to Meesh and takes a look at the device for herself, “What’ve you got, Lieutenant?”

“It’s exactly as Yeoman Person said, it’s used for event marking. On this tab,” says Meesh, pulling up a screen with mostly blue markings on it and scrolling through it, “It’s mostly drill repairs being recorded; 2371.67, 2371.77, 2371.87, 2371.97, so on and so forth. The most recent repair was over two weeks ago, which is unusual for a machine like this.”

“How so?”

“Usually repairs are made every 10 days, if not the drill may become inoperable.”

Colbert scratches the side of her face thoughtfully, “Are there any other dates marked in here?”

Meesh nods, “Shipment dates.” She brings up another tab, this one with mostly dark green writing on it. “According to this, the last complete entry was two weeks ago as well. Which means their last shipment was at that time.”

“What do you mean ‘last complete entry’?”

“There’s an incomplete entry in here,” Meesh replies, pointing to it. “It gives orders for a large shipment of dilithium but doesn’t specify where it was being shipped to or if the shipment actually ever occurred.”

Colbert takes a moment to think things over and then says, “Well, Lieutenant, at this point all we can do is report back Lieutenant Fick. Person, Trombley, Hasser, you are all dismissed and can start help getting camp set up.” She then stands up and begins walking back towards where the Flyers are parked.

Meesh takes a moment to dust off her pants and then follows.

**\------**

 

 **TIME** : 2047

Bravo Unit sits gathered around synthetic fires, built to help combat the freezing temperatures that come over the mountains during the night, eating replicated meals and chatting. Espera comes over to Vehicle One’s Flyer and steals a piece of replicated asparagus from Trombley’s plate, before sitting down next to Person.

“What the fuck do you want, Espera?” Person asks.

“Nothing. Lilley’s just getting tired, and when Lilley gets tired he gets handsy,” she says stealing  some food from Person’s plate. “I ain’t about that.”

“Hm,” Person replies. “Do you want your own meal?”

“Oh, yes please.”

Person sets her plate down and picks her way across their little circle to get to their single replicator; “What do you want?”

Espera doesn’t respond right away, instead she’s looking at Trombley and whatever it is that she’s currently tinkering with. “Trombley, what the hell do you got there?”

“Yo Poke, what do you want?” Person says sounding kinda annoyed.

“Uh, whatever man, it doesn’t matter,” says Espera waving Person off. “Do you see what Trombley’s working on here?” She gestures to the round, metallic-looking bundle that Trombley’s been tinkering with.

“Trombs,” says Colbert, sounding like she’s trying to be delicate. “What the hell is that?”

“A bomb,” Trombley replies plainly, not even looking up from her work. “Maybe a grenade, depends on how you look at it.”

Colbert blankly ahead; _“What?!_ Trombs you can’t just make a bomb! Where the hell did you even get the parts from? _”_

“Spares from our Flyer.”

“So, _that’s_ what you’ve been doing whenever you’re back there tinkering with my machine,” Persons says sounding pretty pissed. “You’re fucking building some doom’s day device!”

“It ain’t a doom’s day device. It’s a bomb. I made it so if we get stuck in a sticky situation- like we’re cornered or something- we’ve got a way out.”

Person rolls her eyes at that. “Yea, cause high-powered explosives will definitely help in a situation like that.”

“Shut up, Ray. Like you’ve got any better ideas,” Trombley retorts, sounding hurt.

“Well actually now that you mentio-“

“Ray!” Colbert calls. “Shut up. Trombley, I don’t care what you do with that bomb, grenade, whatever. As long as its creation hasn’t hampered the functionality of our vehicle and as long as it doesn’t blow us up by accident I’m fine with it.”

“Thank you, Ensign,” Trombley replies, shooting Person a look before going back to working on her bomb, grenade, _whatever_.

Across the circle, Espera laughs, “This shit reminds me the Cardassian occupation of Bajor. Man, that shit was fucked up; lots of crazy shit happening there.”

“Were you even on-planet for that?”  Hasser asks, skeptically.

“Oh, hell no. What, did you think my parents were fucking idiots? My dad’s human, he got me and my mom off that hell-hole at the first whiff of conflict.”

**\------**

**LOCATION** : LAVITA PLAIN  
 **STARDATE** : 2371.114  
 **TIME** : 0908

The day after Bravo Unit found the mine, Fick had them hitting the road early, hoping that by doing so they would be able to get out of the mountains sooner. They did, in fact, manage to accomplish this, but only after Fick had them drive through the night, not letting them stop until the late-morning light was creeping shadows across their view and drivers started falling asleep at the wheel.

“We’re going to be traveling mostly by night now,” Fick says, gathering the entire unit around a detail map. “You’re going to need to make sure your night vision viewing screens are operational. If not, I’ve got just enough night vision goggles for drivers and some left over for team leaders.” He runs a hand through his hair, “Get some rest, but be prepared to go at 2000 Standard. Dismissed.”

The group dissipates; Fick stays behind for a moment, running his hand through his hair, before folding the map and disappearing into his Flyer.

**\------**

The sun beings to set. They wake up. Camp breaks. They drive.

Repeat, repeat, repeat.

**\------**

**LOCATION** : LAVITA PLAIN  
 **STARDATE** : 2371.117  
 **TIME** : 0058

Person twitches nervously in her seat.

“Have you guys noticed that every village we’ve driven through has been empty? Like, _every single fucking one._ ”

Colbert, who had previously been running some schematics on phaser-fire trajectory, as well as keeping a close eye on her map and their position, straightens violently in her seat: “Ray, stop the vehicle.”

“What? Why the fuck would I do that?”

“Just fucking stop!” Colbert yells.

Person brings the Flyer to a sudden halt, jerking everyone in their seats.

Trombley, who Colbert suspects might’ve been taking a nap, pipes up from her seat, “What the hell is going on?”

Colbert ignores her, and leans across Person, grabbing the radio; “Colbert to Fick, permission to halt convoy and discus movements, over.”

There’s a moment where Fick doesn’t reply and everyone in the Flyer looks at Colbert with concern, but then his voice crackles over the radio; “Fick to Colbert, permission granted, over. Fick to Company, you are directed to pull of the main road and secure a home, over.”

Colbert sits down again and Person directs the Flyer off the road, into the grass and dirt. It’s motor’s whine softly with the extra strain of having to propel itself against something not as flat as say, desert or road.

“I sure hope you know what you’re doing,” says Person.

**\------**

**TIME** : 0136

Vehicle 5 manages to locate and secure a small shack a few off the main road. Once it’s declared safe, the rest of Bravo Unit enters the hut, hands close to their belts, ready to draw their phasers drawn. Colbert clears off a table that’s in the middle of the hut, and lays her map across it; “My calculations from earlier, when I said it would take us four days to reach the city, were wrong. If I’m correct, we are currently about 3 miles away the city. If we had continued driving as we were, we would’ve come across the gates in approximately twenty minutes, effectively blowing the entire mission.”

“Shit,” Wynn whispers.

"It's also possible that we've already blown the mission," Colber says. "Yeoman Person pointed out that all of these villages are clear; no people. The only logical conclusion to draw is that they knew we were coming and have brought everyone into the city."

Espera kicks the leg of the table, “ _Fuck!_ How sure are you that we’re only three miles away? How sure are you that the Markavi living in villages have been evactuated to Bhara?”

“Ninety nine point nine eight percent certain. For both. I’ve been tracking it with both the map and I’ve being using my PAAD for calculations.”

“Lieutenant Fick, what’s the plan?” Espera asks, turning to face Fick who is currently inspecting something on the floor. He pauses a moment before answering.

“We’re going to wait out in here until the sun rises- hide the Flyers, take shifts for watch, all the normal shit- and when it does, we’re going to send out scouts to assess the situation. We’ll make further plans from there.” He scuffs his foot against the dirt-packed floor, sending dust up into the air. “Stafford! Christenson! You two have first watch.”

**\------**

**TIME** : 0701

Colbert wakes to the sound of a scuffle.

She’s up and on her feet immediately, hands flying to her belt, drawing her phaser.

Across the room Lovell and Hinsley have a Markavi restrained, but he’s putting up quite the fight. His head-feathers are up and ruffled and he's jerking violently. Colbert strides right across the room, and puts her phaser to his head, making a show of turning it on to ‘kill’. “Lieutenant!” she calls, hoping Fick will show up and give her permission to off the Markavi.

However, the first Lieutenant to respond is Meesh, who comes tearing into the shack and the stops dead in the doorway, wearing an expression of complete confusion, “Juk?”

The Markavi looks at her with a similar expression, “Meesh?”

Colbert turns to Meesh and asks, “You know this guy?” just as Fick comes into the shack, takes one look, and yells, “What the hell is going on?”

“If you let me go I could explain,” says the Markavi.

“You speak Standard?” Fick questions, sounding suspicious.

“Yes. Quite well, if I do say so myself.”

“Meesh,” Colbert says. “Who is this guy?”

“Juk,” she says, still looking amazed. “We knew each other when we were young.”

Fick shares a look with Hinsely, “Let him go.”

Lovell and Hinsley release him and he hits the floor with a thud.

“I’m part of a resistance group,” Juk says, slightly out of breath. “T-there’s a reactor, it’s going to blow up the whole planet. We found your heat signatures last night. There are underground tunnels all over the place here. My superiors sent me to talk to you. Can you help us?”

“Can we trust him?” Colbert asks.

Meesh looks Colbert in the eye, “We can trust him.”

“Tell us more about this reactor.”

 

**\------**

**TIME** : 1708

Juk explains to them that the reactor is a plot by the Markavi government to frame the Federation; for genocide. "It's supposed to blow up the entire, planet, but they're not quite sure if that'll work," he says. "Which is why they've gathered everyone in Bhara. They’ve even put it underground, and made it seem secret, because it makes the story more believable. Or, at least, that’s what they think. The resistance discovered it about two weeks ago.”

“Jesus Christ,” Person whispers to Hasser. “Do they really think they’re going to get away with this kinda shit?”

“Yes,” Juk replies.

Fick pulls Colbert aside, "Do think he's telling the truth?"

"I think he might," Colber replies. "It's logical and would explain a lot of things we've encountered. the unit we made first contact with on Markavi- mostl likely scouters trying to figure out how wide the planet is. The empty mine we came across, the one that had said it was doing a large shipment of dithillium but it was never sent- highly probable this was sent to the reactor. All the empty villages, everything. It all makes sense. And he's giving us a chance to trust him, to help him save this planet. So I vote we take this chance. Besides, if he's lying we can easily over-power him."

Fick turns back to Juk "Take us through these tunnels."

**\------**

**LOCATION** : TUNNELS, UNDISCLOSED LOCATION  
 **STARDATE** : 2371.117  
 **TIME** : 1750

The tunnels have floors made of hard packed dirt and smell like musty earth. 

 Almost an hour into their trek, Juk come to a sudden halt and looks up from his map, “The door to the reactor room is up ahead.”

Fick makes a small noise of acknowledgement, “Colbert, take Vehicle 1 and Lilley and Espera up there with Juk. The rest of us will stay behind and make sure no one enters. Since it’s a reactor, it’s best not to have too many phasers in there. Colbert you can keep yours, but the rest of you; hand ‘em over.”

In the darkness, Colbert nods.

“Let’s go.”

**\------**

**LOCATION** : REACTOR ROOM, UNDISCLOSED LOCATION  
 **STARDATE** : 2371.117  
 **TIME** : 1755

“Area clear,” Hasser calls, looking up from his comm after doing a full room scan for enemy vital signs. The room itself is mostly made out of dirt- for authenticity , Hasser suspects- and crates, desks, and other objects are scattered around the room. The reactor itselft is in the middle of the room, humming and bright blue.

“Good,” Colbert replies. “Where’s the control panel?”

“There,” says Juk pointing to a

“Is it in Standard?”

“Yes.”

“God, they’re really dedicated to accuracy, aren’t they?” Person jokes. No one laughs.

Colbert gets to work on the control panel, fingers flying across its surface. Trombley also takes a look at the device, ‘hmm’ing and offering suggestions when needed. Colbert works on the device for a solid twenty minutes before she looks up. There’s a loud ‘clunk’ as the reactor begins slowing down and turning off. The humming in the room begins to get quieter and quieter, until there’s no sound at all. Colbert turns to Juk. “It’s done.”

“Hey, we just saved a planet!” Person yells, “Up high, Walt!”

“Thank you,” says Juk, who promptly draws his phaser and shoots Lieutenant Meesh squarely in the chest. She’s only able to choke out a “Wha-“ before her body hits the ground with a solid thud.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Colbert yells, waving her hands. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

“I only needed your biological signature on the reactor, that way when this investigated they’ll find your genetic information. I have a device that will remotely activate the reactor.” Juk pulls a small black box from his pocket, and holds it up for Colbert to see.

Colbert draws her phaser in the blink of an eye and shoots the device out of his hand.

Juk screams something in K'liva, looking absolutely furious, still not missing a beat, and firing a second shot at Colbert. This time however, he misses his target slightly and only manages to hit her in the shoulder. Regardless of his original target, the blast does enough damage, because the force of it at such close range causes Colbert to go spiraling backwards twisting and spraining her ankle in doing so. She hits the floor hard, but she’s still able to get off another shot with her phaser and shoot Juk in the chest. He falls to the floor, dead.

 "What the fuck just happened?" Colbert calls out from her position on the floor," I mean the reactor's disabled, so that's not going to cause a genocide anymore. But other than that; what the fuck just happened?"

"I don't know," says Espera and then helps her stand up by supporting her weight.

The group stands around Juk's dead body. Lilley nudges it with his foot.

“Did we win?” Trombley asks.

Phaser fire explodes outside of the door.

“Fuck.”

Person dives towards a crate dragging Colbert with her. “It’s gonna be alright,” She tells her, propping her up against the wall, “I’m gonna get you out of this.”

Besides Person, Hasser and Trombley are also hiding behind the same crate, having been able to duck and roll out of the way early on. A few feet away, Espera and Lilley hide behind another crate. None of them have phasers on them, except for Colbert, but her’s is out of juice. They can hear the dying screams of their teammates outside the reactor room. _Vehicle Two, Vehicle Four, Vehicle Five._ Person presses her finger to her temples; she just wants it to _stop_ already. And it appears it will, the door on the other side of the room is opening; the other Markavi are going to be coming through it any moment now.

“Ray, I still have my bomb,” Trombley says.

“ _What?”_

“Here, it’s here, it’s in my sock,” she pulls it out.

Person looks at Trombley, wide-eyed, unbelieving, and _scared._

“I’m going to throw it.”

“Like hell you are; that shit won’t work! They’ll kill you before it even gets a chance to detonate.”

“Ray, Ray listen to me, this is going to work. What other choice have we got?”

Person swallows.

Trombley grasps the grenade, bomb, _whatever,_ in her hand and says “Wish me luck” with a smile before she stands up and throws the explosive. Almost immediately, she's hit with a barrage of phaser fire and falls to the ground, dead. It's only seconds afterwards, however, that there’s the sound of her bomb going off, followed by the shock blast, which Person feels jolt through her entire body and watches it shake the ground around her violently.

The smoke clears and all is silent. Trombley’s body has yet to cool. Hasser looks up from his comms device at Person, “I’m not picking up any vital signs from anyone in the room but us five. The coast is clear.”

Person doesn't respond, she just takes deep breaths, closing her eyes for a moment, trying to regain composure. “Li-lilley do you t-think you could g-get the block on transmissions down? From the readings I got before, the block is definitely coming from here.”

“Yes,” Lilley replies, eyes brightening. “Espera, come help me.” He makes his way nervously over to the control panel, and then begins working on hacking into its system. Espera watches his back.

Person crawls over to where Colbert lies, half slouched against the wall, panting heavily, and bleeding steadily from her arm. She tears off a peace of her shirt and wraps it tightly around the wound. “Hasser, Walt, help me get Brad up.” They maneuver so that Colbert is hanging on to both of them and is able to keep weight off of her sprained ankle.

“Comms are unjammed,” says Lilley, looking up from the control panel. “We should be able to communicate with the Pendelton.”

Person nods and raises her comm to her mouth, voice shaking.

“Person to Pendelton, do you copy? Five to beam up, over.”

**Author's Note:**

> trigger warnings for:  
> -major character deaths  
> -minor character deaths  
> -xenophobia  
> -violence  
> once again, if i missed anything let me know


End file.
